Speed Demons and Ferris Wheels
by CherBella
Summary: Who would have thought that roller coasters and Coney dogs and one of the most embarrassing days of my life could lead to me landing one of the most popular guys in school?


**A/N: This is something I wrote for the Summer version of the Twilight No Stress Love Fest over on livejournal. http:/twi-love-fest(dot) livejournal (dot)com  
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**Prompt**: _Two classmates - the popular class clown and the shy National Honor Society president - are paired off in line at the last minute to ride the brand new wild roller coaster at Six Flags together._

**It is SLASH so be forewarned if that's not your thing. :)**

**All Twilight characters belong to Stephenie Meyer, Little, Brown, et. al. No profit was made and no copyright infringement is intended.**

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><p><strong>~ o O o ~<strong>

"Okay…stop! We're here, Ed!" he yelled loudly so that I could hear him.

Feeling the firm tug of his warm hands on my arms, I shuffled my feet to a stop. I hoped we weren't anywhere public, where other people could see me. I felt utterly ridiculous and knew I probably looked so as well—a black scarf tied around my eyes and these obnoxious bright pink ear plugs in my ears, being slowly led around by a big bear of a man. That was the only reason I went along with this whole scenario. Because that big (and did I mention gorgeous as well?) bear of a man was all _mine_, and I knew he was excited about whatever he had planned for me. He had kidnapped me after work and said he had a surprise for me, and before I knew it I was blindfolded and earplugged and traveling somewhere in a car. I had hoped maybe the blindfold went along with the "ahem" surprise. But then the car stopped and he led me on a long walk over some bumpy ground and I could tell we were outside somewhere. The only sense I had free to use was my sense of smell, and if it weren't for having to breathe he probably would have found a way to plug that up for me as well. Different scents kept assaulting my nose, but the two most strongest were the pungent odors of fried food and . . . manure?

Finally, now that we were stopped, my surprise would be revealed. First to go were the earplugs. Immediately a rush of sound hit me—children screaming and . . . carnival music?

He stood behind me now, his breath hot against my ear, his arms around me, as he reached for the blindfold.

"Are you ready, baby?"

Still a little unsure of what I was getting myself into, but trying to trust him, I nodded.

With a rush of air the blindfold was off. I blinked my eyes a few times to adjust to the bright sunlight and then looked up . . . and up . . . and up.

"A Ferris wheel!"

He sounded entirely too giddy, meanwhile my stomach was already twisting in knots. Given our past experience with amusement rides, _knowing_ how much I hated them . . . what the _hell_was he thinking?

**~ o O o ~~ o O o ~~ o O o ~**

It was a few days before graduation, and I had been dragged along on the annual senior class, end-of-school-forever, one-last-bash-before-we-never-see-each-other-again trip to the nearby Six Flags Amusement Park.

I hate amusement rides.

My scientific brain understood the science behind them—the engineering and mechanics and the quantum physics of it all. I knew exactly how and why they all worked.

And that was the problem. I knew how delicate the balance was, how all it took was a tiny crack in one support beam, or one bolt loosening ever so slightly, to upset that balance and cause a major catastrophe. It only made matters worse to see the people who worked the rides, those who were responsible for maintaining the safety and security of these deathtraps—most didn't look old enough to drive, much less control an enormous, twisting, turning, hurtling contraption of steel. Or, if they weren't one of the young ones, then they were at the opposite end of the spectrum—old, weathered and weary carnie types with dirt permanently encrusted under their fingernails and bloodshot eyes betraying their desire to be back at the bar.

I had never even planned to go on the senior trip. I was more than happy to stay at home and hang out at the library or in front of my computer to work on the video game I was creating. It was my group of friends that pushed and nagged and egged me on to go. And by group of friends I mean Eric and Ben. Not sure a number of two really constitutes a "group," but they were the only guys I hung out with regularly enough to be considered good friends—they were the other two nerdiest brains in our senior class, hence why we spent so much time together. We sort of gravitated toward each other, just like the jocks hung out together and the band kids hung out together.

In fact, normally they would have been more than happy to hang at my house playing WoW all day. But Ben had a huge crush on one of the popular girls, Angela, and she had actually asked if he was going on the senior trip. Then she threw in a smile and a "hope to see you there," and he was a goner. I will admit, Angela was one of the more honest and nicer girls of the "popular" group, but I still had my suspicions. I worried that, in the end, Ben was just going to get his gullible little heart broken.

Eric had a crush on Angela's friend Lauren, and although there was absolutely no way in hell she would ever give Eric the time of day, he was certain that tagging along with Ben and Angela was going to be his big shot with Lauren.

I still didn't understand why they needed me there, but somehow I let myself be coerced into going to Six Flags and spending the day traipsing after Ben and Eric as they followed after the group of popular kids. Angela actually talked to Ben after we got there and seemed interested in hanging out with him, but Lauren, as predicted, completely ignored Eric.

Because of my aversion to the big coasters I opted to stay safe on solid planet earth while the others rode the rides. I would just sit on a bench and read my book until they were ready to move onto the next ride.

Lunchtime came and we took a break for Coney dogs and nachos. At the food stand there were only a few picnic tables and Eric and I stood there for a few moments with our trays, looking for empty seats. Ben was already sitting with Angela and her friends and there was no more room at their table, so Eric and I sat by ourselves at another table off to the side. I tried to have a normal conversation with him but he was distracted, stealing glances over to the other table with Lauren and Angela and the other popular kids.

Their table _was_ hard to ignore. There were raucous shouts and squeals and laughter coming from it constantly. Always starting with the boy at the center of the table and then rippling through everyone else sitting with him.

Emmett McCarty—gorgeous, all-American good looks, football jock, card-carrying member of the popular kids.

And did I mention gorgeous?

Okay, so yeah, I might have had just a small, little crush on him. Which, yes, made me a total hypocrite for complaining about Ben and Eric's useless pining away for their objects of desire in the popular crowd. But see, I at least knew that any pining I did was never going to amount to anything—no sappy, romantic miracles were going to suddenly happen between us. I knew he was firmly and permanently out of my league and I never pretended otherwise. Because not only was Emmett McCarty part of the popular crowd (strike number one), he was also not gay (strike number two, no need for strike number three). So there would never ever be a chance for the two of us. Period. End of story before it could ever begin.

Aside from all of the other perfect traits I mentioned, Emmett was also voted our Class Clown in the yearbook by a unanimous landslide. Hence, the reason for all of the noise and laughter coming from the other table.

Emmett was an easy-going, fun-loving guy who always had a humorous comment about something or a mischievous prank to pull on someone. He also was blessed with charm— _loads_ of it—because everyone loved him and no one could ever stay mad at him for very long, no matter what he said or did to them. Even teachers who got exasperated with him were usually shaking their heads and laughing at him before class was over.

So I guess I had to admit to my own fair share of furtive glances at the other table, at Emmett, while he regaled the group with some funny story or joke. Short dark hair, big blue eyes that lit up with a twinkle, and a wide, dimpled smile that just made you feel warm inside . . . and made you want to smile right back at him.

I shook my head and turned back to the last of my food. I needed to snap out of the staring, and stop torturing myself. You could work the possibilities for infinity and there would never be an equation that would result in Emmett and me together.

It wasn't long before everyone was done eating and ready to move on. We still had to follow after the others, but at least Ben joined Eric and I as we sort of straggled along at a slower pace behind the others. Next up on the schedule was this season's newest coaster at the park, the Speed Demon. It boasted every adjective a ride could want: bigger, higher, faster, longer than any coaster ever built. As we approached the long line for the ride, I immediately started to veer off to a bench outside the line to wait. Unfortunately, Ben and Eric were having none of that.

"Oh no you don't, Edward, you've done nothing but sit all day. This is the ULTIMATE in awesome rides! You're coming on this one with us, no backing out, man!"

They both ganged up on me verbally and physically, practically pulling my arms out of my sockets and pushing me forward. I still could have gotten away, if not for another large crowd of people that suddenly appeared alongside us, pushing us toward the line. Before I knew it, there I was, trapped in the middle of a line to ride the Speed Demon. Death Demon would have been a more apt name. Because there was no way I was coming off of this thing alive. I should have left a goodbye note for my parents before I left this morning. I hoped they would understand . . . and I hoped they would sue the pants off of Six Flags for killing their only son.

The next hour was excruciating—inching closer and closer to the front, surrounded by the loud metal clanking of the ride and the ear-piercing screams of the riders. Every time the ride passed overhead, my stomach clenched and unclenched.

The only good thing about the whole ordeal was that Emmett seemed to be nowhere in sight. Not only would he not bear witness to my nerves, in case I did anything embarrassing, but he also would survive to live out the rest of his life, unlike me.

Then the unthinkable happened. Well, actually _two_ unthinkable things happened.

We were almost up to the front of the line, finally, when the young girl in line behind Eric and I suddenly lost it. She started screaming and crying, terrified all of a sudden of getting on the ride. Chaos immediately ensued amongst her family—mom started trying to calm her down, brother started yelling that she was a wuss, and dad began grumbling and cursing loudly about how he told her she wouldn't like this and how they just wasted a goddamned hour in line and that she _was_ going to get her little butt on that ride. Which just caused the little girl's screaming level to go up another decibel. Then mom was jumping in again, yelling at the father for yelling at the daughter. They finally ended up leaving, pushing their way rudely back through the line.

I faced forward again, trying to get my breathing and heart rhythm under control, trying to psyche myself up and calm the somersaults my stomach was currently doing. The group of riders ahead of us had already left, and once the cars came back, it would be our group's turn.

I had more than enough to deal with, so I hadn't paid any attention to who had been standing in line behind the Beaver Cleaver family that had just left.

"WHOO HOO! Speed DEMON!" bellowed loudly behind me.

Oh God.

An answering fist pump and yell went up from the group of popular kids in front of me, and then I was being jostled and smooshed against bodies as the two guys yelling at each other went in for a manly high-five.

"Hey Em's here!" someone else called out.

Yeah I _knew_ Em was here—his warm, sweaty body was pressed tightly up against me.

Shit. He felt _so_ good. And _shit_, because now along with my stomach flip-flops and other anxiety, my dick was also starting to move and twitch in happy response.

I managed to shift just enough so that he wouldn't be able to "feel" my traitorous body part pressed up against him.

Thankfully he noticed my shifting and finally backed away, allowing me to at least breathe again as I felt air rushing around me again. Although a masochistic part of me still wanted his body glued to mine again, even if it meant suffocation. What a much more satisfying way to die, than on a roller coaster.

"Eddie-boy! Sorry about that, you all right man?" He took this moment to grasp my shoulders in each of his big paws and give me a hearty, manly shake and clap on the back.

". . . _fine_ . . . _fine_ . . ." was about all I could choke out, as he released me from his friendly assault and I started coughing. I should have been thrilled he'd had his hands on me again, but all of his shaking just churned up my stomach even more.

About this time was when unthinkable thing number two happened.

In the midst of all this testosterone, manly squishing and shaking and high-fiving, I had completely missed that the ride cars had arrived back and the operators had started to load our group in. There were two to a car and I hadn't given that part of the ride much thought because I knew Eric was behind me and we would probably ride together. Except, as I was still coughing and getting my body parts back in order, Eric had noticed that when Ben and Angela got into a car together, that suddenly left Lauren alone. So before I knew what was happening, Eric had leapt in front of me and grabbed the other seat in Lauren's car.

Which now left only one car—the front one—and two seats.

"HEY! Dude!"

I blinked, looking into the eyes of one very pissed off ride operator. Apparently I had zoned out for a moment there, and hadn't heard him speaking to me.

"I _said_, are you in or out? I got to get this thing moving, I don't have all day."

He couldn't have been much older than me, some college kid, long blond hair, bored, surfer-dude type, probably just counting the minutes till his shift was over and he could go light up a joint.

Not exactly instilling confidence in me. And of course there was still the problem behind me.

"Yo, Eddie-boy, you with us, man? _Hel-l-ooo_, Earth to Eddie!" A beefy hand was waving in front of my face, just as everyone waiting in the ride cars started laughing.

My face immediately felt hot, like the burning gates of hell. Which is what I felt like I was entering anyway, so I guess it was appropriate.

Apparently the embarrassing taunting by Emmett woke me up enough to somehow get my legs to move forward and I found myself climbing clumsily into the car.

"Whoo hoo, YES!" Another fist pump. "Front car! Isn't this awesome Eddie?"

Oh yeah _totally_ awesome. Yep, Emmett was climbing into the car and sitting next to me. Actually squeezing himself into the car would be more appropriate.

I did mention that Emmett played football right? Well of course, he had the true football player's body—all hard muscle and beefy brawn. Great for sports, not so great for tiny little roller coaster cars. His whole body, from shoulder to hip to thigh was wedged up next to me, spiking my blood pressure even more than it already was. Maybe I wouldn't even make it through the ride, maybe I'd just have a heart attack right now. My heart was certainly beating fast enough; it could just leap out of my chest at any moment.

My fear of the ride was momentarily forgotten, as all I was aware of was Emmett's body. His bare arm against mine (thanks to the muscle shirt he was wearing), his bare knee pressing up against mine (thanks to the cargo shorts he had on). And his musky male scent from being out in the hot sun all day at the park. Heck, I probably smelled too, for the same reason, but surely not that good.

Just at that moment stupid surfer dude operator came by and slammed the safety restraints down over us and secured the metal safety bar at our waists, effectively cramming our bodies back into the car even further.

My stomach leapt up in to my throat as my feelings for Emmett were set aside by my brain to concentrate on the more urgent problem on hand.

The slow click-clack-click-clack of metal clattered in my ears like a death rattle and the air started whooshing by.

Oh God, we were moving.

"Hell yeah! Here we go Eddie! YAHOOOO_OOOOOO._ . . . .!"

Emmett had the biggest grin plastered on his face and his arms in the air. I was gripping so hard onto the restraints I was surprised I didn't crush the metal.

Oh God, we're at the top of the first hill . . .

Oh God . . . Oh God . . .

…!

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

"ROWRRR! Yahoo! Wasn't that AMAZING Eddie?" BEST ride EVER!"

I couldn't answer Emmett. I think I swallowed my tongue. And I think my other internal organs fell out of my body somewhere around the second upside down section. Or maybe the third. I don't even know how many there were; it was all just a nightmarish blur.

My hands and fingers were still glued permanently to the safety restraints when the surfer dude came by to un-harness us. Emmett jumped out immediately. Surfer dude just gave me a withering look that said, _Really, asshole?_ I finally let go as he unlocked my restraint, and I managed to somehow stumble out of the car and onto the disembarking platform. My legs completely felt like Jell-O. I had my head down, using all the concentration I could muster on making my feet move one at a time down the four stairs that would finally put me on solid ground again, when I ran into a warm, firm wall.

Except walls weren't warm. And it wasn't a wall; it was, of course, Emmett.

"Hey what the . . . oh hey Eddie, watch where you're . . . hey dude are you okay?"

No I'm not okay, I'm stumbling around like a drunk man and my stomach can't seem to stay where it's supposed to.

I glanced up to see Emmett actually looking at me with a concerned look on his face. He put his hands on my shoulders and was leaning down to actually look in my eyes.

"Ed . . . you're looking a little green around the gills."

Wow. Emmett was actually talking to me, like a real person. He actually sounded concerned about me. He . . . .

Before I could even try to form a response to him, my stomach answered for me. As I doubled over and threw up.

Right on Emmett's shoes.

My stomach calmed down briefly after the first spastic spew. It was just enough time for my brain to clear and realize what I had done. My eyes widened in horror as I stared at the nacho-cheesy, chunky, sludge all over Emmett's sneakers.

My body's natural flight or fight response kicked in and I straightened up, whipped around, and started running. I didn't even care where I was running to, I just knew I had to get out of there. I would have kept running to the state line if I could, except, about that time my stomach gave another violent lurch. Luckily, I saw a restroom ahead, and I made a quick beeline to the men's side.

At least this time my stomach let me make it into the stall and to the toilet before it decided to let loose.

In the midst of my retching, I heard the door swing open and some water running, but I was beyond being embarrassed by now, especially in the company of a stranger in a public restroom.

Except, naturally, it wasn't a stranger.

"Hey, Ed, you okay?"

Oh for fuck's sake, God, just kill me now, please.

He rapped lightly on the stall door. I couldn't answer. My stomach seemed to be settled again, for the moment, so I flushed the toilet but refused to open the door just yet.

"Here . . . here's a wet towel to . . . um, clean up with if you need." And there, appearing under the door was Emmett's outstretched hand offering the dampened paper towel.

I still stayed silent while taking it from his hand. I did wish I could at least mumble a "thanks," but I was still mortified and shocked. That Emmett was being so nice. And that he didn't want to beat me up for what I'd done to his shoes.

His hand disappeared briefly before popping under the door again. "And, umm . . . here's a can of 7-Up. My mom always used to give some to me when my stomach was upset. It should help settle your stomach."

I just stared at the can. Again, I was dumbfounded at how nice Emmett was being. I finally snapped out of it and grabbed the can from him before he thought I was a freak again.

"Thanks," I finally managed to croak out.

"Sure thing," he said quietly. Then I heard footsteps getting fainter and the door being opened, and then . . . silence again. At least he had finally left, giving me some privacy.

Eventually I left the bathroom and thankfully, Emmett was nowhere to be found. Ben and Eric were though. Ben was the one who drove, so he offered to take me home. I felt bad making them leave early like that, but I was feeling miserable and mortified and all I wanted to do was to get out of there.

**~ o O o ~**

The next day, I was feeling better, at least stomach-wise. But I still opted to stay in bed. Mom and Dad left for work and I had the house all to myself so I just pulled the covers over my head and wallowed. Wallowed in pity and embarrassment and any other emotion I could wallow in. Thank God, at least, that classes were over and I didn't have to face anyone. Graduation was Sunday and I was seriously contemplating not going. Then I would never have to see any of my classmates ever again. Yeah, I thought that was a phenomenal idea, the problem would be convincing my parents. I had the feeling they wouldn't see things the same way I did.

I kept trying to go back to sleep but just about every time I did, the damn phone rang, waking me up. We had an answering machine, so there wasn't any need for me to get out of my cocoon to answer. It must have been a stupid telemarketer or someone else trying to sell something because they never left a message.

Finally, about noon, I got up to use the bathroom and then planned to go downstairs to forage for some lunch. But just as I was coming out of my bathroom, I heard some strange noises outside my bedroom window. Some grunting and heavy breathing. And I noticed the tree branches of the old oak outside my window swaying slightly.

I snuck over to the corner of my room and grabbed my old little league bat and quietly awaited my intruder, my heart pounding. In hindsight, I probably also should have put some clothes on, as I was stark naked except for my boxers. Then again, the afternoon may have gone completely different if I had.

The creature making all of the noise finally appeared at the top of the tree in front of my window and I think every muscle in my body locked up in shock.

It was Emmett McCarty. Climbing up my tree to my window with one of those soft-side coolers over his shoulder. He grinned when he saw me standing there and gave a wave and then knocked on the glass, motioning for me to open it.

Somehow I managed to lay the baseball bat down and walk over to the window. He barely fit through the window opening and when he started struggling to crawl through, I had to grasp his arms and help steady him. I swear my fingers burned where they touched his skin.

By the time he was inside and could straighten up, I finally let go, although it had to be pretty obvious I was holding onto him far longer than was really necessary. I jerked my hands away quickly. He stood there, in front of me, literally just staring.

His eyes widened and flicked to my bare chest. And his mouth opened and then closed without a sound coming out. He blinked a few times and then his eyes swept down the rest of my body, quickly coming back up to look into my eyes. If it were anyone else, I would say they were definitely checking me out. But not Emmett McCarty.

I didn't think I would make him that uncomfortable; maybe I should have put clothes on.

Still with no explanation for this absurd situation I found myself in, I finally spoke, since he wasn't saying anything.

"Emmett, what are you doing here? And why are you climbing in my window, for cripes sake?"

That seemed to shake him out of whatever temporary trance he was in.

"I wanted to see how you were doing, after yesterday. I called a bunch of times but no one answered. So I took a chance and decided to swing by and I saw your car in the drive, so I knew you had to be home."

Jesus . . . all those phone calls were Emmett?

"But we do have a front door, last time I checked."

"Well then try answering it sometime, dude! I knocked a bunch of times but no one answered." Okay _that_ I didn't have an answer for, as I hadn't heard any knocking. Then again, up here in my bedroom, it _was_ hard to hear the any noise at the front door.

"Anyway, I thought I'd bring you by some lunch but didn't know if you were up to eating yet or what you'd want, so I brought some chicken soup from the diner and also a sandwich. I'll take whichever you don't want." He started rummaging around in his cooler. "And I brought some more 7-Up."

I was still in shock and puzzled. I mean I puked on the man's shoes. He should be _furious_ with me, not bringing me food. Suddenly I realized he was standing there, hands full with the food, waiting on a response from me.

"Um . . . the chicken soup's fine. Thanks." I grabbed a couple of old tray tables I used when the guys were over playing WoW. I pulled the soup container and a 7-Up over to one and sat down on the edge of the bed.

The bed sunk as Emmett's massive body sat down next to me. "So Eddie, you really don't like roller coasters do you dude? You were screaming like a little girl!"

And _there's_ the Emmett we all know and love. With the whole nice routine, bringing me food, climbing in my window, I was beginning to think the old Emmett had been abducted by aliens.

I decided not to respond. Partially because the comment pissed me off, and partially, well . . . I had no defense. I _did_ scream like a little girl.

Emmett didn't seem to care that I wasn't talking, he just carried on. "I mean why did you go on that ride? Were you trying to prove something to yourself, conquer your fear?"

I sighed loudly and then grumbled my answer without looking up at him. "Eric and Ben kept bugging me all day to ride something, I finally did it to shut them up."

"Peer pressure!" He shook his head. "Dude, didn't you pay attention in health class? 'Just Say No.'"

Okay, now I turned and looked at him incredulously. Pod-person Emmett was apparently back.

"Seriously. Applies to drugs and roller coasters. I think your stomach would back me up on that." And then his mega-watt smile appeared, dimples and all, directed right at me, and I nearly melted. I say nearly because there was one body part that was starting to grow quite firm. I ducked my head and turned my attention back to my soup before he saw my red face and the growing problem in my shorts. The sooner this little impromptu lunch was over with, the sooner I could get him out of my house.

And I _was_ actually hungry, _really_ hungry. I hadn't eaten anything since the Coney dogs and nachos yesterday, and well, obviously they hadn't stayed in my system very long. So I was starved. The soup from the diner was always exceptionally good, but because of my intense hunger I was devouring it, moaning and making embarrassing slurping sounds. I heard Emmett clearing his throat a couple of times but I was too engrossed in my soup to worry about whatever his problem was.

Besides their awesome soup, the diner also served these amazing breadsticks. Warm and soft and thick, just like the ones at the Olive Garden. Except these were even better, with just the perfect parmesan-garlic seasoning on them. They were my favorites, and they came with every serving of soup or salad. I picked one up and stuck half of the entire thing in my mouth before even biting down. I may have also let out a loud moan the minute the heavenly parmesan-garlic taste hit my tongue.

And that's when my life changed forever.

"Je-sus . . . ." Emmett tried to be quiet, but I heard his muttering under his breath. And I also caught, in my peripheral vision, his hand on his crotch, trying to subtly adjust himself.

I was so shocked I paused mid-bite, the breadstick still in my mouth.

I turned slowly to look at him. His hand still on his shorts, his eyes wide, like a deer caught in headlights.

All thoughts of food forgotten, I slowly pulled the uneaten breadstick—now all wet and glistening with my saliva—back out of my mouth.

Emmett couldn't contain himself, as his eyes rolled back in his head. "Fuck!" he breathed out, his hand still rubbing his cock slowly.

I glanced down and even with his big hand covering things up it was still very obvious, there was a _very_ sizeable bulge in his khaki shorts.

He was _really_ turned on. He was _really_ hard.

Holy shit.

Emmett McCarty was gay.

Just about that time, he must have regained his senses because his eyes flew open and his hand left his dick so fast it was a blur. His face turned beet red and he started stammering. "I . . . I'm sorry . . . gotta go . . . ."

I had always been a very introverted, studious kid, never the type to take initiative in a situation or put myself out there. And being gay in a small town I had _no_ sexual experience at all, hell I hadn't even kissed anyone.

But I was damned if I was going to let Emmett McCarty—a _hard_ and horny-for-_me_ Emmett McCarty—leave that room.

Just as he was starting to get up I reached over and grabbed his dick through his shorts. He let out a whimper and sat back down, his eyes scrunched shut.

"I don't think we're finished yet," I whispered in his ear. Then, with my heart pounding out of my chest, I leaned over and pressed my lips to his, lightly. He didn't move so I pressed a little harder, capturing his lower lip between both of mine. Slowly his lips started moving with mine, then parting as he let out a low moan. I slipped my tongue into his warm, wet, mouth and I was home. God, he tasted so good. He moaned again and then started grabbing for me, burning me wherever he touched me. I vaguely registered the crash of his tray table tipping over, as he pulled me into his lap. Oh God, I could feel all of him then—his hard muscles under the cotton of his shirt rubbing against my naked skin, his cock, hard as steel, rubbing against mine.

We both had to break apart at the same time for a minute, our breathing in hot and heavy pants. He leaned his forehead against mine, his eyes still shut.

"Fuck Eddie, you're so hot," he uttered as he tilted his head and attacked my neck, kissing and licking and sucking. I threw my head back and gripped his hair tightly. He grabbed my ass and pressed me into him again, bouncing me up and down slightly, rubbing our cocks together harder and harder.

Fuck yeah. Now _this_was one ride I could handle all day long.

**~ o O o ~~ o O o ~~ o O o ~**

_**Five years later . . .**_

. . . what the _hell_ was he thinking?

"A Ferris wheel?" I echoed his words back to him. "Emmett, what the hell . . . ?"

"Happy Anniversary baby! I thought we could celebrate with what brought us together. Well, I mean, it's not Six Flags and the Speed Demon, but the County Fair and the Ferris wheel will have to do."

He was still grinning with glee.

"And have you forgotten how the last time turned out?" While I admit I was glad I got Emmett out of the whole ordeal, I never had been able to eat another nacho or Coney dog again.

"Now baby, you notice I didn't feed you first. And I wore my old shoes."

We both glanced down. Sure enough, he was wearing one of his old, ratty pair of sneakers, the ones he used to wash the car in or to mow the yard.

"Come on Eddie, it's just a Ferris wheel. Grannies and little kids ride these things. They're slower than a snail."

Great, now I'm lumped in with the grannies and little kids.

"What happened to your advice about peer pressure? _'Just say no?'_ Well I'm saying no this time."

"I'm not your peer, I'm your partner, your snookums, your teddy bear, the love of your life, the one who has your best interests at heart, the one who protects you and is always there to take care of you. You can do this baby."

I still had my arms folded and was trying to maintain my stern look, but it was starting to waver.

"Come on baby, _ple-e-e-a-se?_ For me?"

Aw crap, he was pulling out the big guns, the whining and the pouting with those big baby blues of his. I uncrossed my arms and sighed loudly.

"YES!" He did a big fist-pump into the air, knowing he'd won. Yeah he'd won . . . but I was going to demand payback later tonight. LOTS and LOTS of payback.

We got in the short line and all too soon it was our turn to get into one of the Ferris wheel gondolas. Emmett climbed in first, and as I hesitated, I heard the exasperated sigh from the ride operator, who I swear was the same bored surfer dude who ran the Speed Demon all those years before. I guess carnie ride operators were pretty much all alike; maybe the bad hygiene and snotty attitude were a requirement in the official guidebook of carnies somewhere.

"Come on Edward, it'll be okay."

Damn, he was really serious; Emmett never called me Edward. I slowly climbed in, and surfer dude locked the safety bar in place. I tried to ignore the flimsy chain holding it closed or the various small rust spots on the ride.

Emmett wrapped his arm tightly around my waist, pulling me to him, while I gripped the safety bar like my life depended on it.

"They have to test and inspect these rides before they're allowed to run. I promise you their safe," he whispered in my ear. "Just hold on tight, I got you baby."

God I loved him, he knew me so well. Just those few simple words calmed me enough to relax my body into him.

Maybe this was really going to be okay. I could do this. For him.

The ride jerked to a start and the gondola swayed back and forth. My knuckles were white, gripping the bar, but gradually they loosened up. Emmett's arm never left my waist, and he was right—we were moving slow and easy.

Just as I was getting comfortable, we made it to the very top of the Ferris wheel . . . and the whole ride stopped. I immediately sat up straight and started looking all around.

"What's going on, why are we stopping? What . . . ."

I felt Emmett turning in his seat. "Eddie, baby, you're fine, look at me."

I slowly turned to face him.

"That's it, breathe, baby, breathe. Are you okay, do you feel like puking?"

I grimaced at him. "No, I don't feel like puking!"

He smiled, "Good, good. See I told you, it would be okay."

Then he reached over and pried my hands off the safety bar, and brought them down into his lap, our hands and fingers entwined. His eyes looked straight into mine and there was a serious look in them. Oh God, he's going to tell me the ride is broken and we're going to die.

"Eddie, despite your aversion to amusement park rides and your crazy idiosyncrasies, I love you. I've loved you since that day on the Speed Demon. I love you when you wake up in the morning all sleepy and grumpy and I love you when you yell at me for not tightening the toothpaste cap. Hell I even love you when you puke on my shoes. Will you give me the chance to love you forever?"

My mouth dropped open, and my stomach rose into my chest. _Now_ I felt like puking.

"Will you marry me, baby?"

I remembered all those times in high school when I had secretly watched Emmett—in the halls at school, in class and with his friends, even that day at Six Flags—never imagining in my wildest dreams, that five years later I would be sitting here being asked to spend forever with him. How could I ever say no?

"Yes."

And in true Emmett style, his fist pumped the air and he let out a holler. Right before he grabbed my face and kissed me so hard I forgot where we were and what we were doing.

Just as we broke away, both of us grinning stupidly at each other, the ride started again with an especially violent lurch. Damn surfer dude.

The swaying of the gondola made my stomach start doing somersaults and I grabbed desperately for the safety bar. Emmett threw both hands in the air and let out a loud "Wahooooooo!"

Some things would never change.

I just hoped there was a restroom nearby when we got off this thing.

**~ o O o ~~ o O o ~~ o O o ~**


End file.
